


Pretty Woman

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bones wears pretty dresses, Crossdressing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Pretty Woman, Prostitution, Song Inspired, dinner and dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Spock is getting pressured into being a diplomat like his father. Help comes from a most unlikely source.Inspired by the song "Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison





	1. Once

**Author's Note:**

> Published in Spiced Peaches LIV

Spock had been advised not to walk between the embassies which did not seem logical to him. While it was true that resources on Earth were not scarce, so energy conservation was not of particular importance, it was better from an individual health point of view to walk.

It was possible the humans thought he might get lost in the dark and unlabelled corridors however that was not taking into account his inherent Vulcan sense of direction.

As he moved through the pathways though it was his Vulcan ears that distracted him, picking up on the faint whoosh of air from a pair of lungs getting unexpectedly constricted, accompanied by an indistinct thump as of a body hitting a solid surface.

With a concerned frown marring his brow he turned back on himself and stepped up to the entrance of the alleyway he had just passed.

Halfway down, half hidden by shadows, a large heavy set man was pressing a smaller figure against the wall. The details came to Spock as flickering alerts to his mind.

The aggressor had a thick arm pressed forcefully across the other’s chest holding them firmly in place. The victim was wearing a short red dress that their attacker was pulling at the hem of. His pants were already down and his intentions were clear as his large hand continued to grope clumsily under the skirt.

“Ow! That hurt!”

The voice didn’t immediately register with Spock so much as the aggrieved tone did but he had already committed to his course of action. With the aroused male wholly focused on his companion Spock had no difficulty approaching and applying a Vulcan nerve pinch.

As the man dropped down unconscious at his feet, and Spock came face to face with his damsel in distress, his brain finally registered the fact that it wasn’t in fact a damsel.

The man gaped at him before awkwardly remembering himself and yanking his skirt back into a more respectable position.

“What in hell’s name did you do that for?”

The growled demand caught Spock by surprise and he took a second to recover his poise. As he did he caught sight of the fierce eyes that reminded him forcibly of his pet sehlat’s sullen demeanour whenever he required veterinary treatment.

“The man was about to rape you,” he pointed out.

“It weren’t rape. He was paying me.” He glanced down to the unconscious man lying between them. “Though I won’t be seeing a penny of that now.”

Spock felt an automatic instinct to apologise. Instead he focused on the facts.

“He was hurting you.”

The man shifted and his eyes flickered away, one hand instinctively coming up to rub across where there was a red indent on his chest.

“Yeah, well, that happens sometimes.”

Spock took the opportunity to assess the man properly. His initial assessment of short stature was clearly incorrect. Now he was stood upright they were obviously of comparable height. His build was also not as frail as Spock had assumed. He could see the muscles flexing as his companion crossed his arms although the lack of any extra fat made them seem more delicate.

The face was unremarkable, being set in a disagreeable frown at present and topped with an untidy brown mess. He would postulate that it had been quite firmly gripped and pulled recently. The level of make up was also somewhat gaudy.

“How am I gonna explain this?” the man complained. “He’s going to wake up and spread the word that I lure people into an ambush.”

Spock contemplated the prone form. It was undeniable that he’d made an error in judgement and unwittingly created a problem where he had wished to solve one.

“I shall wait,” he decided. “And explain the situation.”

“Like _that_ ’ll make it better. Folk will be wary for good reason then. Most of my clientele like that I’m willing to let them play rough.”

Spock frowned.

“That does not seem very safe.”

He was treated to a calculating stare before a hand gesture dismissed his concern.

“It’s not a problem.” He sighed. “I guess it don’t matter now anyhow. I’ll just move on again.”

So saying he began heading out of the alley. Spock glanced once more to the unconscious body before following, curious against his will.

“You are not local?”

That brought an amused smile to his companion’s face and the dark lines seemed to melt away making him seem warmer. Although perhaps that was the better street lighting.

“Do I _sound_ local? Ah’m from Georgia.”

“Why did you move to San Francisco?”

The nascent smile vanished.

“Personal reasons,” he snapped before relenting slightly. “I was looking for somewhere I felt needed.” He shrugged and Spock took that to reference his present lifestyle choice.

An idea came to him in that instant. A possible solution to a problem that he’d almost believed was unsolvable and a way of making amends for his error in judgement.

Tentatively he spoke again.

“I suppose it must require a high degree of social skills. Gauging interests and intents. Negotiating expectations. Balancing needs and tolerances.”

He received a doubtful glance but his own gaze remained neutral and honest. Eventually the man accepted the comment as genuine and shrugged again.

“I suppose so,” he agreed.

Spock made his decision.

“I wish to employ your services,” he declared.

His companion stopped abruptly and stared. Finally he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Didn’t think Vulcans went in for that sort of thing?” he challenged.

“I am only half Vulcan,” Spock corrected automatically. “Yet it is not for any sexual activity that I wish to engage you.”

“Oh? Not good enough for a Vulcan I suppose,” he muttered before adding. “Oh, sorry. Half Vulcan.”

Spock was not sure if the human was being serious or mocking but decided it was better to assume the former.

“I assure you that from a physical point of view you seem quite suitable as a potential partner.”

“From a physical point of view? You implying I’m mentally inferior?”

“I didn’t intend to imply any such thing. It was merely that we were discussing your appeal as a sexual partner, not your compatibility as a romantic partner.”

The man didn’t seem entirely appeased but he was apparently willing to let the point go.

“What do you want to engage me for then?”

Spock hesitated as he realised he would have to admit his failings. An arched eyebrow prompted him to continue though and he realised he’d already committed himself. It was illogical to delay now.

“My father is a diplomat,” he explained. “He expects me to follow his professional example and has entrusted a mission to me as a training exercise. I confess it is not going well. I do not understand humans’ instinctive body language nor their often confusing verbal language.

“If you will come to the gathering tomorrow as my date, I feel sure you will be able to help me overcome these stumbling blocks.”

The man had been listening intently to this although his gaze was fixed into the distance.

“This gathering,” he queried. “Does it involve dinner?”

“Yes. Negotiations are to be discussed over dinner, and during the evening’s dancing, before being voted upon the next day.”

“Huh.”

A silence fell as the invitation was considered and Spock felt a twinge of desperation.

“Tomorrow is my last chance to successfully argue for the people of Alpha Centauri. My father will not take my failure well.”

Those keen eyes surveyed him non-committedly and he tried not to fidget.

“Well,” the man eventually drawled. “Lucky for you I got a soft spot for Alpha Centauri. What time should I meet you?”

“1700 hours. At the embassy.”

The man offered him a genuine smile that softened his face considerably.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

As he turned and began to walk away Spock realised he didn’t even know his name.

“I am Spock,” he called.

The human turned briefly.

“Leonard,” he replied before continuing on his way into the night.


	2. Twice

Spock was having doubts about the logic of his decision by the next day. While engaging Leonard to act as a social guide had seemed the obvious solution at the time, now he could see the possible problems.

He knew nothing about Leonard except his current profession and Spock knew very well that humans had connotations about that. However he was confident the fact would not come out. His plan was merely to introduce Leonard as his date and trust he was adept at covering personal questions.

However would the man possess the required social niceties for a diplomatic function? In truth he’d had little to base such an assumption on and today it caused him some anxiety – both the possibility of causing a scene and the unusual trust he’d unhesitantly bestowed.

Then he saw the man waiting outside the embassy for him and his concerns faded. Leonard had dressed in a most becoming formal gown, the rival of any other attendees that Spock had seen. His posture too was demure rather than ostentatious. While he was no less eye catching than he had been, he also presented an air of nonchalance.

Spock almost wouldn’t have recognised him from the vivacious individual of the night before. Except for the quick gaze that conveyed an intense level of intelligence behind the apparel. _That_ was why Spock had solicited him, he recalled.

With renewed determination he approached and noted Leonard’s eyes scanning him curiously.

“You ain’t changed yer mind then?” he enquired softly when Spock was close enough to take his arm.

“Not at all. If anything I am reassured by your appearance today. You look most attractive.”

It was a mere statement of fact but it brought a blush to his companion’s cheeks, highlighting his use of more subtle make up for this gathering.

“Ah! Spock.” A florid human sauntered over. “I see you’ve brought a guest?”

“Yes. This is my date for this evening. Leonard.”

The dignitary glanced him up and down disdainfully. Leonard smiled widely and held out a hand.

“Leonard McCoy,” he introduced. “Please though, call me McCoy.”

As his hand was released he tucked it back round Spock’s arm and propelled him forward. It took the Vulcan a second to register the subtle insult.

“Call me McCoy?” he whispered. “That was not terribly diplomatic.”

“Nonsense. It was perfectly diplomatic. What it wasn’t was polite.”

“Does that not amount to the same thing?”

They stopped amongst the crowd and Leonard surveyed him critically.

“You really aren’t very good at this are you? The man was looking at me like I was beneath him. The only diplomatic response was to repay his impoliteness with some of my own.”

“Ah.” Spock thought of the man’s expression upon seeing Leonard and had to concur. He had forgotten some humans still had old preconceptions about gender identity and its expression.

“Perhaps he was jealous of your beauty,” he suggested.

Leonard dropped his eyes again which Spock found curious. Surely a man who received offers for his company on the street recognised his own appeal?

Their private talk was curtailed as Spock was compelled to introduce his date to the other guests who were all interested in this new addition to their company. Leonard silently assessed them all and reacted appropriately to each approach. To all however he deflected personal questions with – “Oh you don’t want to hear about me.” – before enquiring more about them. Being representatives they never missed an opportunity to voice their own thoughts and views. Spock was impressed with how much information he managed to gather before they were led into dinner.

At dinner though the delegates forgot all about Spock and McCoy as they returned to their continuing argument. Spock had heard it all before so he instead focused his attention on his date. Leonard however was soaking in everything.

Briefly put, the citizens of Alpha Centauri wished to open a new resort. The humans of Earth, or the influential ones at least, were objecting on the grounds that there were new outbreaks of supposedly eradicated diseases on the planet and it would be economically damaging to them all if visiting aliens contracted them.

As the dignitaries argued the same points back and forth Spock saw Leonard lose himself in thought, elegant fingers drumming the table top. Then his piercing eyes focused suddenly on the Earth contingent, studying them each in turn.

“Spock!” The Alpha Centauri ambassador turned imploringly. “Will you not give an opinion?”

“I should like to hear Leonard’s thoughts,” Spock deferred, eyes fixed upon McCoy’s surprised face.

“Ya sure about that?”

“I did not ask you here merely to look pretty.”

His cheeks blushed but Leonard turned to the rest of the table determinedly.

“The diseases you’re talking about are ones that existed on Earth centuries ago. They’re ones most humans developed immunity to from living here. The population of Alpha Centauri only got infected ‘cause they were raised on a foreign planet and had no in built defences when they visited the home world.”

“Exactly!” The leader of the Earth delegation interrupted. “So it would be dangerous and irresponsible to allow alien visitors to suffer exposure.”

“ _Except,_ ” McCoy continued fiercely, “alien visitors have been coming to Earth centuries with no sudden epidemics. We got an alien sitting right here with us. So either they already have immunity or these diseases just aren’t going to cross that species boundary.”

The Earth ambassador looked much less pleased.

“Forgive me,” he said patronisingly. “But what qualifications do you have to make that assumption?”

Leonard drew himself up straight.

“Medical qualifications, sir. Doctor Leonard McCoy at your service.”

The man cast a suddenly worried glance to an aide.

“Please,” McCoy continued, “do look me up.”

The ambassador flushed in embarrassment and Spock decided to add something diplomatic.

“Perhaps you were given incorrect information about the health hazards?”

His aide darted forward and whispered hurriedly in the man’s ear. His eyes widened and he stared back at McCoy.

“It seems your reputation in this field is unequalled Doctor McCoy. Perhaps,” he stood awkwardly, “it will be worth investigating the validity of our claims further. If you’ll excuse us.”

He bowed formally and led his delegation out with as much dignity as he could muster. Leonard smirked and reached for his drink, basking in the happy appreciation of the Alpha Centauri contingent. Then he locked eyes with Spock.

“Glad you brought me?” he enquired.

“It was undoubtedly the best decision of my diplomatic career,” he answered honestly.

McCoy’s smirk settled into a pleased smile.


	3. Three Times

As dinner came to an end their hosts were eager to lead them into the ballroom to celebrate what they perceived as their now inevitable victory. Spock followed them with some uncertainty. Thus far the evenings had been passed listening to ongoing arguments and he was unsure how he would be expected to behave now.

Leonard’s eyes however lit up when he saw the brightly lit room and heard the band warming up.

“Dinner and dancing. Can’t remember when I had such a pleasant evening.”

“It may have to be just dinner,” Spock said. “I have not been trained in dancing.”

McCoy scoffed.

“Trained? Ya don’t need training to dance. Here, I’ll show you.”

So saying he caught Spock by the hand and pulled him into the clear space. Spock went more out of unwillingness to cause a scene than eagerness.

“Now, you put one hand on my waist and keep the other in mine. Right. So, start with the right foot… step forward. Now the left, diagonal forward. Good. Bring the right across… and step back with your left… diagonal back right and left across. See? Easy.” He grinned.

“These steps are indeed simple,” Spock agreed before pointing out, “However we do not appear to be in time to the music.”

“That’s their problem not ours.” Leonard looked blissfully unconcerned and Spock decided to follow his example in this as well. Yet he could not help but contemplate what tomorrow would bring now.

Although he had naturally wanted to bring a successful conclusion to this mediation, he knew that his father would now push him harder to join the diplomatic service.

He studied McCoy’s serene face and wondered about his future too. Would tomorrow see him back offering pleasure to strangers in alleys? Suffering injuries for the brief sensation of being needed? Noticed? Valued?

Why did he choose such an unconventional avenue of service when he clearly had skills that would be invaluable to a multitude of organisations?

A new idea grew in Spock’s mind. One that might validate a notion he’d been germinating a long time. This could very well be the prompt to action he himself needed. And, as his first impulsive decision had worked so well, he decided to risk this one also.

“I have been thinking of what I shall do now,” he stated. Leonard looked at him with genuine interest.

“Yeah?”

“I have long had a wish to join Starfleet.” He hesitated, so used to having the idea disparaged but Leonard smiled warmly.

“Then you should go for it,” he insisted.

“Why do you not join also?” Spock spoke with renewed confidence. “I am sure they would appreciate your skills.”

McCoy shook his head.

“I left the medical profession for good reason. I’m better off where I am.”

“I cannot believe that. You clearly have an inherent desire to help others. Why waste your talents this way?”

“Because-” He stopped and glared away over Spock’s shoulder. “I already lost too much to that profession.”

That gave Spock pause and he spoke softly when he spoke again.

“I do not know your past – and I will not ask – yet it should not take your future from you.”

Cautious, nervous eyes met his again and he pressed on.

“You are intelligent, honest, determined, and caring. Starfleet would be lucky to have you.”

McCoy ducked his gaze away.

“You don’t know what yer saying.”

Spock reached up to tilt Leonard’s head back up to face him.

“I do. I see you, I think, better than you see yourself.”

Leonard continued to stare doubtfully at him.

“You have helped me,” Spock insisted. “Please. Let me take this journey with you.”

He had not realised but he had kept his fingers resting upon Leonard’s jaw. He could feel the tension there now and instinctively rubbed his finger tips in a soothing manner.

The gesture was seemingly too much though as Leonard wrenched himself out of Spock’s grasp and stalked away. Spock watched, at a loss what else to do, and noted with detachment the way the dress shimmered with each step. The shot silk shifted from blue to purple and back and he was struck with the whimsical thought that it was as mercurial as McCoy’s moods.

Unpredictable and hypnotically fascinating. His world would be duller without the man and he knew with certainty that he would not achieve so much without him there to inspire him. Already he could feel his confidence in his decision waning.

He realised abruptly that Leonard had stopped and was now merely standing across the room, still with his back to him but no longer leaving. Spock found himself illogically holding his breath.

Then McCoy turned and stormed back towards him.

The Vulcan prepared himself for either a verbal rebuke or possibly even a physical attack. There was a very focused look in the human’s eyes that did not encourage him.

He was totally caught off guard however when Leonard grasped his head and pressed their lips almost aggressively together. All he could do was stare mutely as Leonard pulled away.

“I hate you.”

Spock heard the words clearly but saw something very different in McCoy’s eyes. Something fragile and vulnerable. He ran his hand back up to stroke the side of his jaw once again.

“Does this mean you will come with me?”

Leonard dropped his head forward to rest against Spock’s.

“I must be mad,” he murmured, “but yeah.”

Spock wrapped his arms protectively around him and silently vowed to keep him safe as best as he was able. Risking his father’s disappointment for his own sake was not sufficient. Yet for this hurt and wounded human? He would risk much.

“We will go together,” he assured him. “Or not at all.”

McCoy chuckled softly.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“I hope we will in fact be catalysts for each other. To better lives Doctor.”

McCoy smiled up at him.

“That too.”


End file.
